Begone, dull care!
I prithee, begone from me
Begone, dull care!
You and I shall never agree
Long time hast thou been tarrying here
And fain thou wouldst me kill
But in faith, dull care
Thou never shall have thy will.

Too much care
Will make a man turn grey
And too much care
Will turn an old man to clay
My wife shall dance and I shall sing
So merrily pass the day
For I hold it one of the wisest things
To drive dull care away.